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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597917">Welcome back, Henry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goopie/pseuds/goopie'>goopie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bendy and the Ink Machine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>School prompt, henry gets knocked out lol, wrote this for my school</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:22:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597917</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goopie/pseuds/goopie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Batim writing under the promt: "Describe walking around a spooky house without using the words ‘and’, ‘but’, ‘so’ or ‘then’."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Welcome back, Henry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His feet gently teetered across every wooden plank, the occasional creak echoing obnoxiously. The last thing he needed was more attention drawn to himself. He – the man we’ll come to know as Henry Stein – was wandering around is old workplace, looking for Joey, his old boss. He was called here for a reason Henry was still trying to figure out, hence the reason he was even looking for Joey in the first place. Henry was yet to find him; he wouldn’t be surprised if it had been some sort of prank: odd recordings were almost everywhere, documenting the rowdiness of few and annoyance of others. One stood out to him though: Sammy Lawrence. He had mentioned something about a pump in his office, and despite his suspicion, that’s where Henry was headed now. Although the power was still on, the building was unkempt as well as messy, with something that looked like deep, black ink dripping down from the ceiling. He had a distant memory of Joey implementing an “ink machine”, in a sorry attempt to make his employees work faster. It didn’t work, which to even the dumbest of people was obvious, for floods of gooey liquid were frequent around the stairwells. Henry had found at least three flights of stairs blocked off by the substance so far. He assumed the greater amount of ink in the building than usual was due to the long neglect of the aforementioned machine, but at this point he wasn’t so sure.<br/>
While he’d kept repeating to himself his mind was playing tricks on him, Henry could no longer ignore the feeling of paranoia slowly clambering up his mind. The empty halls which once held the life of animations were now empty and empty of the very thing it crafted. While the building wasn’t cold, it certainly held a chill in the air.</p><p>Deep in thought, Henry didn’t quite catch the sound of a second set of footsteps behind him. What he did take attention to, was probably worse than another person being in the building. Henry whipped his around, trying to catch the sound again. He froze on the spot, the paranoia spiking once again. From where he had just came from, on the back wall, read, “Who’s laughing now?”<br/>
The messy writing made Henry desperate to run, run, run! Quick on his heel, the man span again. He had to get out of this stupid building, get home, and never come back. In fact, coming here in the first place was a stupid, stupid idea!<br/>
Whack.<br/>
Henry fell to his knees, the sudden injury making his sight fuzzy. Who the hell..?<br/>
He gently turned his head, avoiding haste. The headache seemed to double in intensity and he winced. Behind him, a dark figure stood. He wore a mask, the mouth piece crudely cut out for what Henry guessed to be an easier way to talk. When Henry made an attempt to stand, the man shushed him, pushing him back down. Now unable to hold his weight with his arms, Henry fell flat on the floor.<br/>
“Shush... rest your head, Henry...” The figure said. Henry was too disoriented to question why the man knew his name, why he appeared to look like he was recently pushed into one of those ink pools, or to ask about the odd familiarity that was the inky figure.<br/>
Henry was on the brink of unconsciousness, fighting it was pointless. It was inevitable. The two men remained a steady eye-contact, right until Henry couldn’t even keep his eyes open in pain.<br/>
The last word he heard was a murmur to him, barely legible through the haze:<br/>
“Welcome back, Henry...”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>short lil thing</p></blockquote></div></div>
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